Dandelion People
by Muffins Planned
Summary: A dandelion can bloom in concrete, survive in the worst conditions. These people have survived the worst. AH


Thank you to my **BETA** feriel_miranda over at lj. She's made this story easier to read (i.e removed the runon sentences and weird words :P)

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Bella POV

The liquid inside the ball splashed against it's walls as I tilted it from side to side, watching it carefully so that it wouldn't spill out of the hole at the top of the ball and wet my bed. It calmed me, always having to think just how much I could move my hand, having to think several steps in advance. I couldn't just abruptly stop, because that would send more than a few drops over the edge.

Someone knocked on my door and in my peripheral vision I could see the door to my bedroom slowly open. It didn't bother me, like it used to do only a few years ago. My nerves were no longer on high alert, just waiting for someone to take over the control I had claimed over my own body, I knew it would only take a few minutes to for my life to crash again.

"Bells, it's time to eat," I looked up slowly, starting to get the water to lay still in the ball again.

"Uh," I answered, a bit distant after being focused on the ball for so long, "I'll be down in a minute." My eyes finally reached my father standing in the doorway. When I first came to live here as a ten year old, my father had been hopeless at cooking, but in an attempt to salvage the last of my childhood he took cooking classes. Now, almost seven years later, he was not a master, but his food was decent most of the time - only if he stuck to the cookbooks.

"Don't be too long," he simply said, and closed the door behind him as he left. Sometimes I wondered if what happened would ever be forgotten and not so obvious in our relationship. Every day I saw the shame of having to live with someone broken in the way I am, see the guilt because he had let what happen, happen.

The water stilled inside the ball, and I stared at the pink hued glass ball for a few moments, before carefully walking with the ball towards one of the many plants in my room, and dumped the water in the dirt.

School was tedious, I had to struggle with the most basic assignments, and often failed ones that required a lot of thinking. Especially math, it was impossible for me to even grasp the logic of math beyond elementary school level. Psychiatrists always said the same things: that the first years in school I was too traumatized and isolated from normalcy for my mind to have the energy to learn. I didn't want to think about why I was so different, why people who passed me in the hallways called me a freak. I should have been a junior, and instead I was a freshman, and everyone seemed aware of it.

One thing that I was good at though, was driving. Dad didn't have much money, and not my mother either - if she was in a period where she acted like I existed, so the car I drove was an ancient one. His friend Billy Black's son restored it, and they somewhat donated it because they took pity in me. Everyone who knew about what happened seemed to either never want to talk to me again, or take such extreme pity in me that they did things like donating a car. I shouldn't complain. I got something to drive.

When I pulled into the school parking lot the first day of high school things naturally looked immensely different from how they looked at junior high. Last year I would drive past Forks High and imagine being in high school, as I should have been, and be normal like everyone else. They didn't have to look at their own body and feel betrayal and hatred. Their lives were somewhat in their own hands, while mine were tied down and away from my life.

It didn't feel like something big when I finally entered high school, and it disappointed me to realize that there was nothing to look forward to there, either. I had my locker number and the combination to open it, my schedule, and all of it was memorized into slightest detail. It never ceased to amaze me that I couldn't for the life of me learn how to do advanced math, but I could memorize a whole schedule by just looking at it for a few minutes.

As I reached my locker, I sighed in annoyance. The two people with the lockers next to mine had them wide open, and stood chatting animatedly to each other with way too cheery smiles on their faces. The two people were Janice and Mary, two girls I had shared most of my classes with in junior high, and they were very well aware that I was an idiot.

"Excuse me," I said quietly and squeezed myself in between them. Both of them turned quiet immediately, and from the corner of my eye I could see Mary smirking to Janice.

"Oh Bella!" Janice squealed in fake happiness. "I'm _so _happy that you got a locker so close to _ours_," she clapped her hands in a disturbing and ominous way. Quickly I opened my locker, without doing something so cliché as smacking it in my face, and thus stopping myself from getting an immediate dork stamp. That would have to wait until tomorrow, at the latest.

"Have you cut your hair?" Mary suddenly asked, taking a strand of hair between her fingers. Without thinking I took a big step back, away from them, shaking my head and pulling my hair from between her fingers, stepping right into someone's shoulder, and almost tripping over them. If it had not been for the person's quick reaction, I would have continued my descent to the floor. But he stopped me by putting one of his arms over my shoulder, and the other across my waist. For a moment when I was dangling over the floor I felt safe for the first time in over ten years, and it scared me. The fear, however, returned in full force when I saw a man's face hovering above mine, looking down at me with a chuckle. Again without thinking, I pushed his hands away from me in sheer panic, my hands flailing, and ended up on the floor, my head cracking against the hard brown tiles.

"Ow," I was stupid enough to mutter, and squeezed my eyes shut. My breathing still rapid and my body tense, anticipating the violence, yet knowing that it wasn't going to come.

"Are you ok?" A beautiful voice asked, and I cursed myself for never learning a synonym for beautiful. I vowed to do so as soon as I got home.

"Ow," I said one more time, my rigid body started to relax, and I put my fingers against a particularly sore spot at the back of my head, and groaned as I felt something wet. Damn it, the first class of the year hadn't even started, and I was already going to be sent to the nurse.

"Are you ok?" The same voice asked. The voice was soft, yet not as soft as a prepubescent boy, but as a full-grown man.

I opened my eyes, ignoring his question, and dumbly looked at my fingers that were now smeared with blood. Nope, I hadn't just fallen into a puddle indoors on a rare week when it hadn't rained once. The copper smell of the blood was enough to get my head swooning, so I removed my hand from in front of my face.

"Oh no, blood," I heard him mutter, the smoothness of his voice almost gone and replaced with a raspy tone. "Can someone call the nurse?" He called, voice rising to almost a yell.

"No, no, no," I started to mutter like a confused drunk, and sat up, trying my best to appear fine. I knew that I was not fine, and that they saw the horrible shade my hair must have turned because of the blood. It would cake later, and my hair would become a tangled, copper smelling, mess. It looked much worse than it was, but it was still a bleeding wound, and I didn't want to faint in school. At the same time, I knew that there was either that or making the trip to the nurse, and I doubted that Mrs Weber would keep this from Charlie, and I hated when Charlie worried.

"You're bleeding," he reasoned, seeming incredulous at my refusal. I was in the mood to answer something along the line that I had been through worse, because I honestly had, and most of the time it had been nothing to this. This was a rug burn, a walking on a small rock barefoot. Nothing worth mentioning.

I looked up at him as he said it, and he looked genuinely concerned. There was no pity in his eyes, no disgust. It was then that it struck me that I could not place this boy, or man, amongst the faces of the teenaged residents of Forks. He was someone new, and not only was his voice beautiful, but his face was out of this world. There, a synonym! Or synonym phrase?

"I'm fine," I rolled my eyes, ignoring the nauseating sensation that seemed to radiate from every little part of my body.

"I'm going to take you to the nurse," he said in a decisive tone, and I looked up at him with furrowed eyebrows. Who did he think he was? I wouldn't just suddenly act like a damsel in distress and let him sweep me off my feet and into the nurse's office. No, I said I was fine, and he would have to accept that. "Which direction is the nurses office?" I heard him ask someone, anyone, his confidence suddenly gone and replaced with something that resembled forlornness, which made me feel much more superior.

"I'm fine," I growled, and started to stand up.

"I'm not so sure standing up is such a great idea," once again I looked up at him and sent him the best glare I could muster as the nausea intensified.

"Well, you don't get to decide," I challenged him, and finally got back up on two feet. For a second or two I managed to stand straight and tall, when the smell of blood hit me once again, and black spots entered my vision. I hadn't even realized that I had lost my footing until I felt his arms wrap around my waist.

"Going to the nurse seems to becoming a better and better idea with each passing second," he muttered, and I figured that it was only meant for his own ears, but I pushed off of him and stalked towards the girl's restroom where I knew he couldn't follow. The nausea was reaching an unbearable level.

"Stop following me," I called out, just in case he was doing that, but I had no idea of telling since I was in a rush to make it to a toilet before I actually threw up.

After wrapping one of my hands hurriedly up in toilet paper and held my hair away from my face with the other, I stood on my knees and hand, just waiting. Nothing happened. I just sat there panting, breathing in the awful stench that seemed to haunt public toilets all around the globe. Not that I'd been anywhere other than here in Forks and Phoenix.

"Isabella?" I heard a perky girl say, and I looked under the cubicle door to see her practically bouncing towards the door, from under which my feet were sticking out. _Oh, shit_, I thought and groaned way too loudly. As soon as she reached the cubicle I was in, she bent over and peeked under the door. I did not see that coming so I had no time to hide the fact that I had heard and seen her. "There's no use hiding from me, I always found everyone when we played hide and seek when I was little, so now my brothers refuse to play it anymore," she had a thoughtful look on her face before she once again looked at me. She had the greenest eyes I had ever seen, along with short black hair that seemed to stick out in every direction.

Without saying anything else she suddenly moved from under the door, and I watched her feet start walking away.

"I don't really know what to do now, because if you stand up I have little doubt that you will faint, but, " she paused for a while by the sinks, and was probably looking at herself in the mirror, "if you stay in there you'll probably faint as well," she walked back to me and peered under the door again, "see my dilemma?"

"Uh," I wasn't sure if I was supposed to answer.

"Really, I would like to get my brother Emmett to open this door for you, but I don't think it's such a great idea for him to get in trouble on our first day in this school, " she frowned and moved her head away again, and walked into the stall next to mine. "Especially for going into the girl's restroom, _and _destroying school property… it's like ninth grade all over again," I watched her feet disappear as she stepped up on the toilet. "Damnit," She cursed under her breath and hopped down again. That was when I noticed her unbelievably small feet. I don't think my feet were ever as small as hers.

"Now tell me, why did you lock yourself in one of these cubicles when you have a bleeding head wound. Not only is that stupid, but it's extremely annoying for the people trying to help you," she huffed.

"I didn't lock the door," I offered weakly, and she was silent for a few seconds, possibly half a minute, before she hesitantly opened the door and greeted me with a sunny smile.

"I'm Alice," she said, and practically bounced up to me to make the one foot distance between us barely an inch, and stretched her hand forward for me to shake. "You must be Isabella," I looked first at her, and then at her hand, and then at her feet. Everything about her was tiny. I removed my right hand from my hair and carefully put it in hers, so I wouldn't break it.

"Bella," I corrected her. I didn't know what possessed me to do that, since I had always been perfectly content with my peers and teachers calling me Isabella. It was impersonal, put up much needed distance between me and all the people who would judge me. Maybe it was because she seemed so innocent and harmless.

"Now, if I could get you to the nurses office I'm sure we'd be great friends, I'm not so fond of hanging out in a restroom," she released my hand after giving it a tight squeeze, much tighter than I had anticipated from someone her size. "Can you… stay here?" She asked, as she looked me up and down, probably thinking of a way to get me out of the room without fainting, as she so brilliantly had foreseen. Once she had gone I contemplated my situation, and for the first time I was confused by the presence of the pixie like girl that had, much like the boy in the hallway, insisted on being my saviour for some reason. It wasn't something I particularly liked or even felt the slightest bit ok about, but it was a bit better that it was a girl and not an almost grown boy who would drag me to the nurses office.

"C'mon, the bell will ring any time now," I heard Alice say urgently to someone, followed by a set of heavy footsteps.

"Ok, but you know that if I get caught I'll say that you forced me to," a man, definitely a man, said in a voice that seemed so filled with happiness that it would have fitted better on a three year old boy, if it had not been so deep.

"Like they'd believe that," Alice answered teasingly, as she and a big man, which was no overstatement, appeared just in front of me. It would have been a funny sight, seeing Alice standing next to such a tall and bulky man, who obviously had played his fair share of American football, if it had not been for the fact that his size was intimidating, and caused my heart to quiver in fear. "Bella, this is my brother Emmett, Emmett, this is Bella and she's a damsel in distress," she introduced us perkily. "I figured that after you ran away from Edward, Emmett was the better choice," she shrugged, but didn't seem to notice me staring at her brother. Both of his arms were thicker than my thighs, and his chest could give my chest a run for the money.

"No, I'm fine, really," there was no way in hell I was going to let that man anywhere near me. Ever since I came to live with Charlie physical touch had been something I had always shied away from, and I knew that it hurt him to not be able to hug his own daughter. The thought of letting this man, whom I barely even remembered the name of, touching me was enough for me to want to dig a hole through the wall with my bare fingers just so I could escape.

"Bella," I heard Alice say somewhere in the distance, her voice chastising, but I couldn't focus on her as her brother's body seemed to tower so high above me, his shadow dark over my whole body. I saw Alice's mouth moving, heard a faint echo of the word bell, but all she said seemed like an incoherent mess, a mumble too far off for me to focus on. All I could hear was my own breathing. The only thing I saw was her brother slowly inching closer to me, his arms stretching forward to touch me, hurt me, and I did all I could think of. I kicked his hand away from me, and scooted as far back as I could from the two of them still standing there by the door.

"Don't touch me!" I yelled, and their expressions turned perplexed. "I swear to god don't touch me," I growled, hugging my knees to my chest.

Alice POV

This wasn't the first time we started a new school, but this time it was ok because we started a new school because of something good. This was, however, the first time Emmett had been kicked before the first class had even started. Girls had managed to stay away from kicking him during the first four months, at least. They just didn't get his humour. It was uncalled for this time, and I would have called her rude for responding like that to my brother who was only trying to help her, if it had not been for the panic attack that followed straight after.

Carlisle, my foster dad, was a doctor and had explained to me what a panic attack was after I had my first one at the mere age of eleven, so I could quickly distinguish the signs. It was scary, first watching her fright or flight reaction to Emmett reaching to scoop her up. She had obviously chosen fight because she was in no condition to run.

Emmett was standing next to me biting his lip while cradling his hand to his chest.

"Bella, breathe calmly, " I said as soothingly as I could, wishing that Jasper was here to say exactly the right thing and stop her from breathing herself into unconsciousness. "There's no harm here," I whispered and looked around at Emmett. "Go get the nurse," I ordered quickly, and he ran as fast as he could, slamming the door behind him.

"I - I- don't- want to," she struggled to speak.

"You don't have to, try holding your breath," I assured her and suggested. Having a panic attack was far scarier than witnessing one, but there was something utterly terrifying about seeing someone believing they cannot breathe, and not be able to help that person. My father had always encouraged my brothers and I to help others, and often took us to help out at the shelters when we were old enough. He had big plans for us, for our family, but he had died before we were old enough to grasp the full meaning of it. Carlisle was like that, as well, but everyone has told me not to get close to a foster parent because there was always a chance that they suddenly wouldn't want you any more, and then it would hurt so much. After four years, I tried to be the child they always wanted but couldn't have, but what if I couldn't be that? Would they send my whole family away, and we would be split up, just because of me?

Bella looked up at me, and I couldn't escape the hold of her brown eyes. Despite the fact that I could read fear and distress all over her face, I could momentarily see in her eyes a small string of hope, I could feel that somehow this all would fade away and she would be ok. In a fragment of a second I could see her face lit up in a smile.

There was only one reason why this scared me, and that was that I knew it was going to happen, and I wasn't supposed to know.

"Ms Masen, the final bell just rang, I advise both you and Mr Masen to hurry to class. You wouldn't want to be late on your first day." the nurse said behind me suddenly interrupted, and shot me a very pointed look as I turned around to acknowledge her. Quickly I stood up, having sat down in the middle of all the chaos. "Hurry," she stressed us, and I scurried out of the bathroom.

"Bella, it's alright, can you breathe into this bag for me? Yes, good girl," I heard the soothing voice of the nurse. There was something slightly odd about how she was on first name basis with a student, and using a pet name.

Emmett POV

I stretched my hand, testing the bones for any possible break or tear. Halfway the pain was bearable, almost fully stretched the pain shot from the middle of my hand and up my arm. It wasn't too bad, but I should probably make Carlisle take a look at it when tonight when Edward and Alice are doing their homework. They were smart, the two of them, and I couldn't help but feel my heart swell with pride when they scored high on their test results, or during Edward's piano concerts. I remember when we found out that we would be living with Alice again, and Edward heard from Alice that they had a piano. He hadn't shut up about it for the entire car ride to their house, and that was not a short one. It was all right though; because it was the happiest he had been since our parents died, so I didn't tell him to shut up. The social worker got annoyed, but not even she had the heart to tell Edward to shut the fuck up.

"That kid, she managed to get one hell of a kick in," I said, not even afraid to show my admiration of her. I was secure enough in my masculinity for that. Alice scoffed, pushing her food around, claiming she didn't have an appetite. She was the only one who reacted to what I had said. Edward was staring broodingly into the wall, a perfect wannabe Ryan Attwood, and both Rosalie and Jasper were ignoring the rest of us by putting as much space between the two of them and us that could be managed at this small table. As if not that had been enough, they were both buried up to their noses in their books.

"It's called adrenaline, did you see the way she looked at you?" At that Rosalie looked up. I thought I could see a hint of jealousy in her face, but she tried to cover it up with disgust.

"I didn't need to look at her, I got the memo when she _kicked _me!" I pointed out once again, earning a few glances from tables surrounding ours. A few people had approached our table in an attempt to tell us to beat it, but they just glanced at me once before quickly hurrying off to some other part of the cafeteria. I had more muscle than their whole football team combined, and that was enough to send them running. Hopefully, the girls wouldn't run, 'cause if they did, that would just make senior year suck - big time.

"I think Bella is in desperate need of a friend," Alice suddenly said, her gaze focused on something behind me, and I whipped around to see what had caught Alice's attention. The girl was sitting there, alone at one of the smaller tables. "She was in one of my classes, Spanish, and everyone was looking at her strangely. Someone told me that she was not really supposed to be there, she had to repeat fifth grade twice," Alice stuck her bottom lip out and smiled a half smile, a good indication that she was saddened at what she had heard.

"I think you will be the best friend the girl could ever ask for," I smiled, putting one arm around her and shaking her roughly. I knew she could handle my strength. For being so small she was unbelievably strong.

"I don't think she would appreciate being called 'the girl' or 'the kid'," she pointed out like the smart ass she was.

"Well, that's a problem, you think entirely too much," she hit my shoulder with all her strength, and honestly, it _hurt_.

"Ouch, little kid, " I said, mocking hurt as I rubbed the spot where she it me, "don't wound me!"

"Don't be so rude then," she frowned at me, and took a big bite of her food. I stared at her for a while, before turning to look at the girl that had kicked me. There was something about the way that Alice acted with her. For starters she never used to make friends with anyone, and then how she talked about her now. I knew that this girl would soon be a part of our very, very, fucked up lives.

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I'm not saying that I don't write if I don't get reviews (only if I get less then one...), it just reminds me to get my but over to the computer and write. Unfortunately I'm scatterbrained and a procrastinator, so help me keep focus?

Also, I'm making a few changes in apperances, nothing big but stuff that can be explained. I'll explain when I get there. Thank you for reading!


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